You don’t really get to know a place through landmarks alone.
You get to know it through people.
Sometimes that looks like old dog collars and bowls perched quietly on a shelf not decoration, but remembrance. A family member long gone, still present through stories shared casually over morning coffee (RIP Khaleesi). These are the details no hotel brochure will ever tell you, because hotels don’t carry memory. People do.
In the U.S., we talk a lot about Southern hospitality. But there is something entirely different and deeply moving about Scottish hospitality. It isn’t performative. It isn’t transactional. It just exists.
How did I get free accommodation in Scotland?
I first came across Julie through a TikTok that mentioned free accommodation for solo female travelers with the added idea that members can also open their own homes and give back to the community. I’ll admit, my initial reaction was skepticism. It sounded too good to be true.
But after looking into it more closely, that’s exactly what it was: Her travel circle is a community built on trust, generosity, and genuine human connection. You pay a small membership fee even at its highest, still far less than a week in a modest hotel and in return, you’re welcomed into real homes by real locals.
Not a faceless rental.
Not a key code and a checkout list.
A person.
Julie writes a blog every day thoughtfully, faithfully, while I’m over here celebrating if I get one blog post out in a month. Still, the day I arrived, she shared a few simple words on her blog about my arrival, and the response that followed was overwhelming in the best way. Messages from people I’d never met, offering kindness so freely. It reminded me that this style of travel tends to draw a certain kind of person open-hearted, curious, and deeply human.
You can’t talk about Julie without talking about Craig. His kindness showed up in the quiet, everyday ways, especially in the evenings, when we’d return from long days of exploring to find dinner already prepared. Not once, but twice. One night, he cooked a fully traditional Scottish meal of haggis, neeps, and tatties with a classic Irn-Bru soda to wash it all down, the kind of food that feels like a hug after a cold day out.
Over the course of the stay, I slipped into my own little nightly ritual: curling up in bed, scrolling or reading for a few minutes before sleep, while Bhruic would wander in and settle beside me for snuggles, as if it had always been our routine. Those small, ordinary moments, kindness without expectation, comfort without asking, are the ones that stayed with me long after the trip ended.
Exploring Scotland, Guided by Local
One morning we set off on a day trip and headed north straight toward Glencoe, then looping back, six-hour round trip to be exact.
The weather wasn’t blue-sky perfect, but it was unmistakably Scotland. Misty. Dramatic. Moody in the best way.
From Loch Lomond, we drove north toward Glencoe. The cold had fully set in by the time we arrived. We tried to capture a few moments on camera but couldn’t stop laughing as frozen fingers and stiff smiles made it nearly impossible. Lunch at the Clachaig Inn warmed us up before we began the drive back south.
Another day took us east to Edinburgh. We parked outside the city and took the tram in, getting off the tram in Edinburgh, I felt myself slow down and overwhelmed with emotion. These were the kinds of storybook cities I once only dreamed about, places I assumed belonged to other people’s lives. And there I was, not just seeing it, but being welcomed into it with a level of generosity that still feels hard to explain.
We walked through Princes Street Gardens and past the Scott Monument. We crossed Waverley Bridge, wandered into the train station where scenes from The Avengers were filmed, and climbed winding streets layered with centuries of history.
When a Place Starts Telling You Its Stories
The details that stay with me aren’t the ones I could pin on a map.
They’re the stories, a pub tied to a 21st birthday, a building that once held a wedding reception. Small moments, offered freely, because I was standing beside someone who knew this place as home.
This kind of travel only happens when you trust your instincts. When you choose connection over comfort. Had I not taken a chance on Her TravelCircle, I would have seen Scotland, but I would never have heard it speak.
This is what human-centered travel looks like. You don’t just visit places, you meet the lives that built them. And if you’re really lucky, you leave with lifelong friends… some with two legs, some with four.
A Necessary Disclaimer
It’s important to say this clearly: not every host will have the time, resources, or desire to do what Julie did and that’s completely okay. This kind of experience isn’t a guarantee or a standard. It’s a possibility.
Every host, every stay, every connection is different. And honestly, that unpredictability is part of the magic. The only way to understand it is to keep showing up, keep traveling, and stay open to what unfolds.
Why This Matters to Me
Solo travel quite literally changed the entire trajectory of my life.
And while I sell travel for a living, while this is how I support myself, the fact that I’m willing to openly talk about and promote a free accommodation platform should say everything about how deeply I believe in this kind of travel.
Not because it’s cheaper.
But because it’s richer.
Because it puts faces with places.
Because it reminds us that travel isn’t about consumption, it’s about connection.
If you’re a solo female traveler and this style of travel speaks to you, I’d still love to help curate your trip, thoughtfully and intentionally, while incorporating local hosts where it makes sense. That is absolutely possible.
You simply need to be part of the platform, and from there, we can build something meaningful together.
Click here to get started on your trip TODAY!
